Jen Karetnick

Snowfall, with Reconciliation
March 28, 2025 Karetnick Jen

Snowfall, with Reconciliation

After Dein Haus ritt die finstere Welle (Your House Rode the Dark Wave) by Anselm Kiefer, which is after Das einzige Licht (The Only Light) by Paul Celan

 

 

I.

 

How old winter is.
However much we stain

 

the world, snow thick
as flaking plaster falls.

 

Everything imitates
this act. The grey art of

 

ambiguity. A strenuous ballet
of wet feet, wet cuffs. Sometimes

 

language impedes such croaks
of sorrow. Our long verb, howl.

 

The soul-catcher’s noose,
murmuring judgments.

 

II.

 

Something overripe malingers
without benefits of bone.

 

I too haltingly assay
an orderly universe

 

of discoverable laws.
The deep woods drumming

 

of the grouse. Last night’s
dream. The intensity of it.

 

All of us on all fours obeying
the laws of migration.

 

III.

 

Who stands outside the self?
Anyone who dares to disbelieve.

 

Out of what reservoir makes time?
The piece I came to grief on.

 

Did I come back from there
morally improved?

 

Age has conferred on me
a certain grace.

 

IV.

 

Here’s such light and such benevolence
that winter is overlooked, like bad

 

table manners. Such concentration
is required. I look for you wherever I go,

 

thin line of comfort that binds us.
Anchored at the window, the last

 

to leave, I tell the lie that saves:
I am your first forgiver. I will be

 

years gathering up our words.
The one brief note that says

 

we mean to save that kind
of boldness: ripe berry on the stem.

 

V.

 

Now we are new round mouths,
up at dawn to perform the simple tasks.

 

We will butter the sun with our wisdom,
all delicate with touch and praise.

 

I hope in the afterlife there’s love
leaking out unguarded.

 

 

 

 

A Maxine Kumin ekocento written in the Maxine Kumin Studio, Vermont Studio Center

Source poems: “After Love;” “Chores;” “Family Reunion;” “Almost Spring, Driving Home, Reciting Hopkins;” “Cross Country Skiing;” “The Festung, Salzburg;” “The Archaeology of a Marriage;” “The Eternal Lover;” “Finding the One Brief Note;” “A Calling;” “The Excrement Poem;” “The Geographic Center;” “Getting There;” “In a Different Country;” “Last Days;” “Grandchild;” “In April, In Princeton;” “Lying in Bed Away from Home;” “Night Launch;” “My Quotable Friend;” “One Dead Friend;” “Requiem on I-89;” “Song;” “With the Caribou;” “Youth Orchestra, with Dogs;” “Together;” “Song for Seven Parts of the Body;” “The Revisionist Dream;” “The Poets’ Garden;” “Heaven as Anus;” “In the Absence of Bliss;” “Marianne, My Mother, and Me;” “Nurture;” “’Primitivism’ Exhibit;” “Running Away Together;” “The Spell;” “Whereof the Gift Is Small;” “Which One;” “Spree;” “The Selling of the Slaves;” “Progress;” “On Reading an Old Baedeker in Schloss Leopoldskron;” “The Masochist;” “The Knot;” “How It Is”

A 2024 National Poetry Series finalist, Jen Karetnick is the author of 12 collections of poetry, including Inheritance with a High Error Rate (January 2024), the winner of the 2022 Cider Press Review Book Award. Forthcoming books include What Forges Us Steel: The Judge Judy Poems (Alternating Current Press, 2025) and Domiciliary (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2026). The co-founder and managing editor of SWWIM Every Day, she has recent or forthcoming work in Atlanta Review, Cimarron Review, NELLE, Pleiades, Shenandoah, Sixth Finch, Verse Daily, and elsewhere. See jkaretnick.com.